sit ; cross your legs, open your palms, close your eyes n be quiet.

w/o hesitation, whirling thru the upper layers of consciousness is redundant n trivial thoughts, radio chatter n gossip that confuse the silence. the day’s blah-blah-blah. sport statistics, the weather, tv commercials. acKnowledge these distractions n let them go ; quicK taste of a silent mind

until the silence is broKen by more mundane confrontations/conversations of real/perceived images that attacK/validate your nine-to-five ego n question your self-worth. acKnowledge these distractions n let them go ; silence is lengthen/d as you go deeper …

the artist quips thru the quiet, reminds you who you are isn’t the real you. ridicules your worKing class accomplishments, your fear of success, your willingness to conform n reminds you of all your creative failures ; acKnowledge these distractions n let them go ; silence is increased as you go deeper, still.

in stomps all regrets, mistaKes, guilt. anything you wish to forget, but can’t b/c someone else alive Knows what happen/d. the growing list of people that you should apologize to before death ; acKnowledge these distractions n let them go ; then, as quicKly as these voices are silenced

trudges in the grudges, hatred, anger, betrayal, disloyalty. all of the hurt n repression that explains the evil in you ; acKnowledge these distractions n let them go.

n then, finally, complete quiet

forever,

as you wait in absolute silence
hoping to uproot the pleasantries
that laid the foundation of good
in you.

but,

shh.

bj draKe